The Weasley Twins: the Lost Novel
by kayko15
Summary: "Why can't the Wizarding World stay safe for once?" With the Light being secured and Fred happily married, the world seems to be at peace. But someone forgot to tell him the problems of marriage, his wife's boss, and yet another threat looming over the wizarding world yet again. Because nothing ever seems to stay calm for long.


**K15: So, I have decided that I wanted to revamp this story. I promise to leave a lot of the same elements in there, but I wanted to include a prologue as well as combine some of the shorter chapters.**

**Fred: It came to her while working on the next chapter. **

**Me: Yeah, so, I hope you keep reading the Weasley Twins, but enjoy some of the newer chapters that I post up! Later. K15**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

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Prologue: Welcome to Gryffindor!

Fred Weasley joked around, plopping his feet up across from him next to where his older brother Percy sat. The prat was made Prefect, and that gave him right to boast all summer about it. Then there was the youngest of the Weasley males, Ron, who was being sorted for the first and only times this year. He was more than excited to go off and learn magic, since his older brothers had bragged so much about the great school.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his twin brother, George, was flirting with a younger student—a second year, by the name of Katie Bell. She would occasionally giggle, before swatting his hand away. She then would return to catching up with her friends who she hadn't seen over the summer. Rolling his blue-green eyes, Fred's attention turned back to the first years that were piling into the Great Hall.

In their midst were new Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, all willing to be pranked and used for test subjects as soon as they got the money to get potion supplies. Stealing from Snape's warehouse this year would probably be a little harder—especially since the greasy potion's master put up new charms and wards that needed to be broken into.

He thought it was funny to see some of the new first years cower in fear. None knew what the sorting ceremony really was going to be. A smile crossed his face as he noticed his younger, equally redheaded, brother lean over to his new friend as whisper something. It was clear that they saw the Sorting Hat. Fred and George had informed Ron, that there was going to be a troll they had to fight before figuring out what House they belonged to.

George's interest suddenly peaked and his head turned towards the first years. It was good to know the older of the two Weasley Twins was going to pay attention instead of flirting with pretty girls. Speaking of which, Fred turned his head down to where Angelina was sitting and winked at her. A blush covered her dark face as she turned away from him.

Sitting up a little taller, Fred tried to figure out what potentials they had this year. There was a bushy haired girl who was talking nonstop. Her chocolate eyes moved towards the ceiling or down to the different tables. It was clear that she was spouting off different information—a know-it-all. She was going to be troublesome and probably a prefect and later Head Girl in her Hogwarts career. That would probably mean a lot of scolding for the pranks, the two twins would pull.

Next to her, however, was a small girl with glasses. She looked shy, but was hanging on every word that the Know-It-All was saying. Her brown hair was straight and fell only to her shoulders. It was hard to see her eye color from where he was sitting—as they were hiding behind a pair of brown frames—but Fred suddenly found their first victim of the year. It didn't matter what House she was going to be in, he found the nerve to pick on her.

"Hey, George," Fred whispered.

"What?"

"The girl with the glasses, standing next the bushy haired girl, see her?"

"Yeah? What about her?"

"She's our first victim of the year," Fred declared.

George looked at her and noticed she was now pulling at her black Hogwarts uniform skirt, and making sure that her robe was as straight as could be. There was no colored tie or House patch yet, but she was either going to end up in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. That much was clear. Slytherins and Gryffindors were a little more courageous than what she was getting out to be.

"Excellent."

Soon all noise died out in the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat cleared it's voice. And it traveled across the room.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can top them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a steady mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Fred and George let out a small chuckle, it was very different from the previous years. But it still surprised many on what it was saying. But this year it was simple and kind—introducing many of the first years to the different Houses and what the strength's of the Houses were.

McGonagall walked forward, holding a scroll of parchment. Fred smirked; he knew that on that list were the names of the first years that were about to be sorted.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Both George and Fred shot a glance at each other. At the same time they rolled their eyes, it was going to be a long night if they had to listen to the twenty or thirty students who needed to be sorted.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

At the sound of the name, the table behind them erupted with cheers. It seemed that this night was going to be full of the rolling of eyes, because for what seemed like the fourth time that evening, Fred had rolled his eyes.

"Bones, Susan!"

And once again, "Hufflepuff!" was called out.

Boot and Brocklehurst became the first new Ravenclaws of the year. After that, Lavender Brown became the first Gryffindor of the year. This caused the Gryffindor table to go nuts. It didn't help much that Fred and George were catcalling at the cute first year.

It was then Bulstrode (Slytherin) joined her table at the far end of the hall, while Michael Corner was stuck into Ravenclaw. Fred felt the need to be extra weary of this guy. Who knew what kind of trouble he would cause. Not all wizards and witches were smart that were placed into Ravenclaw. Sometimes they were stuck there in hope of being molded into something great.

Take Cho Chang for instance, she was one of the many who could have been better in the department of brains, but was very talented in the skill of Quidditch. Fred had seen the girl flying around on a broomstick last year and knew that she was going to be trying out this year—since first years were never allowed on the team.

"Granger, Hermione!" McGonagall called out next.

The bushy haired little girl rushed forward and nearly jumped onto the stool. Her tiny hands held the hat as she pushed it roughly onto her head. Both Fred and George leaned forward and waited patiently for the Hat to make its final decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Both boys groaned. "That girl is a pain in our arse already," George stated. Both had been reprimanded on the train for tricking their younger brother into believing a spell, to turn Scabbers yellow, would actually work.

"And the year hasn't even officially begun yet," Fred finished up.

Their best friend since first year, Lee Jordan stood sat next to them, staring at Hermione. "She maybe all for the rules, but maybe this year she can help us win more House Points. Last year we were slaughtered by Slytherin," he reminded.

She bounded over to them, and sat right across from Percy. Her chocolate cover eyes returned to the remaining students who had left to be sorted. As Neville Longbottom bounced over to the Gryffindor table, laughter filled the Great Hall—he had forgotten to take off the Sorting Hat and had to walk all the way back to give it to Morag MacDougal.

All three of the Weasleys narrowed their eyes when "Malfoy, Draco," was called out. The Malfoy boy was the only heir to the Malfoy fortune. And it was clear that his father was still a Death Eater, even though the You-Know-Who had been missing for years.

The Hat barely graced his slicked back blond hair before it yelled out, "SLYTHERIN!" There was no surprise there. _Like father, like son. _

"He'll be easy pickings," George whispered. "He already looks like a Weasel, if not that then a Ferret."

Fred smirked as well and was lost in thoughts as others were sorted into their House. Moon, Nott and Parkinson were all sorted into the evil house of Slytherin. While a set of twins were sorted into separate Houses—almost unheard of. Fred didn't know what he'd do without George. And like wise, George probably didn't know what he'd do without his twin brother.

A shudder escaped Fred as he thought of being sorted into Slytherin. Everybody knew that the Weasley's were some of the biggest blood-traitors around. But that didn't stop them from being some of the nicest people. But everyone who was sorted into Slytherin had turned out to be Death Eaters; it was just a proven fact.

"Potter, Harry!"

Fred perked up. As so did the rest of the students. _The _Harry Potter had joined their midst at last? The last rumor that was about the boy was that he disappeared right along side with You-Know-Who. Sure enough, a boy with round glasses and bright green eyes approached the small stool. He looked nervous about something, but it was unclear what that something was.

"Do you think he'll be sorted into Slytherin? He's supposed to be evil," a boy two years ahead of Fred asked.

Fred shot down a dirty look. That was probably his younger brother's best friend they were talking about. And so far, Harry Potter had done nothing but saved them from the evil that would have consumed them.

"He's eleven years old, what the hell do you think?"

"No one knows how he defeated the Dark Lord, and here you are defending him?" the boy snapped back.

"I've met Harry," Hermione put in. Suddenly a few eyes were on her. "He seems nice. He knows what to stick up for. I've heard that he has already stuck up to Malfoy."

"Well, that proves it," George added. "Everyone here knows that the Malfoys are the foulest and the biggest supports of You-Know-Who ever. I don't think Potter is evil."

At that moment the black tattered hat made its decision. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Once again their table erupted with cheers, whistling, catcalls, and both of the Weasley twins yelling, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"

And that was the last words anyone heard. Two more students were sorted after that, Zacharias Smith and Pamela Saunders (Ravenclaw and Gryffindor) and it was even then a moment after that it took the table to settle down. Harry was now placed comfortably next to George, yet across from Nearly Headless Nick.

Fred smiled; Harry Potter was a Gryffindor. He had chosen his side and now the Slytherins couldn't touch him. It seemed that the two Houses had an unspoken line that was not to be crossed. Fred hardly noticed the small girl sit next to him.

He sat down and was slightly startled by the girl who had so quietly snuck up next to him. She looked up with at him and he was able to see her dusky blue eyes. He stared unblinking a little longer before looking at his brother who was getting sorted at the time.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

There was no surprise there. Every Weasley had been sorted into Gryffindor. Fred and George had joked around if there was anyone who was going to break that family tradition it was going to be little Ronald. He had just about as much courage as a mouse, but his temper matched one that could be called Slytherin. Bill had joked, in a letter earlier in the summer, that Ron should be sorted in Hufflepuff.

To make room for their brother, Percy moved over to where the Gryffindor Ghost was once sitting. And it wasn't long after that the Sorting hat was taken away. Dumbledore got up and said a few words and the feast had begun.

* * *

The first night back to Hogwarts was always the hardest. Fred always had the hardest time falling asleep. There was just too much excitement running through his veins to focus on sleeping. So, instead him and George would occupy the Common Room, actually going through their books. Being third years meant, they actually knew how the teachers taught. This meant a couple of nights of reading through the books and deciding what lessons would help them in the future and which ones they could attempt to skip out on.

"Any good lessons in that transfiguration book?" Fred asked, brushing his red hair out of his face. "Charms look like it could be an interesting year."

"Eh, you know how McGonagall teaches," George replied.

Most everyone had gone to bed, leaving the twins sitting alone surrounded with a pile of books. The only sound was coming from the fire in front of them, and the breathing from the two boys. Suddenly, a soft sound came from the girl's staircase. The twins snapped their heads towards the sound and noticed that a small girl wearing nothing but a huge t-shirt arrived at the bottom of the staircase.

She blinked her eyes a few times, rubbing them. In one of her hands was a grey teddy bear. Her blue eyes moved up to the twins and blushed a few different shades before pulling herself together. "I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was still up."

George looked over at Fred who had his arms crossed. "Well, isn't it a little ickie first year?" Fred said, getting to his feet. "What brings you to play with the big boys at this time?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said, letting out a yawn. Her brown hair was sticking up in every direction. Once again George kept his green-blue eyes on his brother's form as he approached the young girl. "I should just go back to my dormitory."

The young girl turned on her heel and headed back to the staircase leading up to the girl's dormitories. "You should sit here for a while," George offered. "Coming here for the first time is always hard. Especially, when you don't know anyone."

Fred looked over at his brother, shaking his head. This girl was going to ruin their planning for the year. It was tradition to stay up all night planning. And now here this girl was coming to sit next to George, who was barely awake, himself.

"What's your name?" George asked.

"Pamela Saunders," she replied. Again she let out a yawn and sat next to George. She shivered a bit before getting comfortable on the furthest cushion away from the Weasley Twin.

"It's nice to meet you, Pamela," George replied. He always was the nicer of the two. "I'm George and this is my brother, Fred—we're twins."

"I can tell. I didn't mean to interrupt you two. Dad says I'm always doing that and it's rude," she said, looking down into her lap. The grey bear was now settled in her lap, looking up with dark eyes. Her hands played with the purple bow around its neck, straightening it out so it was in the middle of its neck.

"Your father is correct, you should probably head back to your own bed," Fred answered, settling down in a chair across from the two. "You're going to have a big day full of classes tomorrow."

"I know, but I'm nervous, and I don't know if I like this place," she answered. Her eyes glanced up for a moment. He tilted his head, trying to figure out where he had seen those eyes before. He finally decided that it was from a dream, and brushed it off as mere coincidence. "The beds are too comfortable."

"It's hard to get used to the beds the first couple of days. Everything seems too real to be true," George said, patting the seat next to him. "I don't bite, hard."

This earned him a small giggle. "I don't want to be a bother."

"Never, love."

She moved over and settled next to him. George grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap. The green-blue eyes of the older twin never once left the blue-green eyes of the younger twin. The two were having an argument without actually saying any words. Finally, Fred let out a sigh of defeat.

"But only this time," Fred said out loud.

"It shouldn't happen again," George replied. The small girl was staring straight ahead. "Do you want a trick to help you fall asleep?"

"George?" a voice called out. The twins snapped back to find Ron standing at the bottom of the boy's staircase—his pajama pants were about an inch too short. "I can't fall asleep."

Fred rolled his eyes and stood up, stretching. "You've got this under control. I'll head on up to bed. G'night."

Fred then headed towards the boy's staircase. Ron had settled himself down on the floor, his head resting on one of George's knees. Pamela's head was on the pillow and she looked comfortable resting there. With a couple of deep breaths, Fred traveled back down the stairs back to his chair. Opening a book, he began to read. He might as well stay there with his youngest brother and his twin.

"I want you both to listen to the sound of my voice," George started out. His hands ran through the chin length brown hair of Pamela's and through Ron's short red hair. "There is nothing but the sound of my voice going through your head. Do not speak to me, or reply to anything I say. I just want you to listen to my voice and what it says."

Fred smirked behind the book. It was George's way of helping the youngest of the Weasleys fall asleep after a nightmare. He would talk them softly and help them focus on one thing rather than a million different thoughts. It worked too—Ginny usually got the furthest of the Weasley siblings he did that too. Fred was out the moment he started, he knew he was safe while George was there.

"Now, darkness is going to wrap itself around you. It's going to start with your toes and wrap around each one individually," George continued, as Fred let out a yawn. George looked up for a second before continuing, He had no idea that it was starting to affect his twin slightly as well. "As it finishes your toes, it creeps up to your feet, wrapping around them. It reaches your ankles and does the same thing. As it reaches your calves, it carefully wraps around the muscle—"

Ron started to snore softy, wrapping his arms around George's leg. Pamela's breath began to slow down, coming out more evenly. Her eyes were beginning to drift shut as George continued with his "darkness technique". Finally, her eyes shut and she was asleep.

"That was a kind thing you did," Fred said, reaching for a blanket wrapping it around the girl.

"Yeah, well, she can't be much older than Ginny. It's just kind of the big brother obligation," George answered, nudging Ron, so he fell to the ground. Instead of rousing, the youngest Weasley rolled over, getting closer to the couch. "I don't think I've ever got to the calves before. I was running out of ways to cloak the darkness around her."

Fred smirked. "Tomorrow we prank her?"

George shook his head and wrapped a blanket around Ron. He then pulled out his wand. With a few waves, he had dyed both his brother and this new girl's hair pink. He snickered slightly and looked up to his brother.

"Pink?"

"What color should it be?"

Fred waved it around and Ron's turned from a pink rose color to a bright shade of neon green. He looked over at Pamela and blinked his eyes. With a few more blinks, he shrugged and turned back to his brother. It was odd—he felt that if he were to change it, she would extract vengeance.

"You feel it too?"

Fred looked up and noticed that George was once again running his hands through her brown hair. Shrugging his shoulders, he began his walk towards the stairs. Standing at the bottom in a pink nightgown and pink fluffy slippers was the bushy haired girl from earlier. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was glaring at the two.

"Don't you two know anything? We aren't here for a day and you two are getting into trouble!" she scolded. "I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger. And I should report you two to Professor McGonagall."

Fred messed up her already bushy hair. "Relax Granger, it is a harmless prank. It will wash out when they take a shower."

"But he's your brother! And she's a first year, with no magical experience," she continued to scold.

He rolled his eyes. If the last name didn't give away the family relations, then it was the red hair and freckles that would give it away. All of the Weasleys had them. It seemed that they were cursed with freckles and red hair for the rest of their lives.

Once again, he tried to mess up her hair, but with no success. "I'm going to bed, Miss Granger. Now, I suggest you do the same. It is nearing midnight. G'night." He headed up the stairs and closed the door to the dorm behind him.

George remained in the middle of the Common room, his hand stuck in Pamela's hand. He gave it a yank and she flinched slightly, but didn't wake. He looked at Hermione and said, "You better not change a thing."

"And what will you do?"

"Well, I'm sure Fred will make your life a living hell," he answered.

"Is that a threat?"

"It could possibly be," he answered again. "But either way, it's not going to stop us from pranking the first years. So, I'd watch yourself, Hermione. Just a warning." He turned his back towards her and began to ascend the boy's staircase. He stopped about midway and turned to look at her. With a twinkle in his eyes he said, "And I wouldn't go running to that old bat, McGonagall. The worst she'll do is write Mum or give us detention."

Hermione huffed and with a twirl rushed up her staircase. George smirked and finished climbing up his staircase. When he opened the door, he noticed that Fred was putting on his shirt. There was a nasty scar across his right shoulder blade, to about an inch past his spine, from when he had fallen as a kid. Not many knew this, but that was one of the ways you could tell the twins apart.

But that didn't mean George didn't have a scar similar to it. They were about eight when they received the scars. The family had been visiting their aunt Muriel and Fred had fallen off the side of the cliff. Instead of screaming and running for help, George began to climb down in an effort to rescue the other half of the Weasley Twins. He had slipped and ended up landing on a sharp rock. It cut his arm open and George had lost a lot of blood that day—until Bill found his younger brothers.

"There's a storm coming up," Fred said, as he climbed into bed. Lee Jordan had already fallen asleep. And they were the only two occupants in the room. "The scar is starting to ache again."

"It must be a bad storm," George answered, changing into his pajama pants. "Or a sign of bad winter."

They both settled into bed and looked at each other. It seemed to be tradition to stare at each other before falling asleep. Even though, they spent every minute of every day together, there were still things that one saw or sensed that the other didn't.

"This girl, Pamela," Fred said, his eyes traveling around the room. "She seems different. I feel the odd need to get closer to her. And, I know this sounds weird. But I have the strange need to keep an eye on that Malfoy child too."

George nodded. Fred was the one with all the plans. If he said something, then George was to go along with it. It didn't matter how strange or outrageous it was. George still followed his brother.

Fred put his hands behind his head and blinked his eyes a few times. He'd have to keep a close eye on the girl. Who knows, maybe after a short while, she'd turn out to be someone more they could prank. He shook his head. Whatever this girl was, lover was not a word he'd ever use to describe the girl.

* * *

Before anyone realized, days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and soon the months gathered to form one whole year. The twins were still entering their fourth year. When they entered the school, halls filled with Slytherin talked of something dark and mysterious happening this year. It was rumored that Muggle-borns were to be attacked, and Pamela's side suddenly found Lee Jordan.

Fred laughed. This made their favorite target a little bit easier to prank. She'd usually travel by herself, informing Lee that he was in no need of his service and that chivalry was dead. But he couldn't help but notice that she always had her wand at her side and was keeping an eye out where ever she went. But she let her guard down while she was in the common room.

"Pamela!" Fred called out, causing the girl to look up from her potions essay. He had learned that she loved to wait until the last moment to actually write anything on it. As he walked over to her, she shoved her essay into her shoulder bag. "You going somewhere, love?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," she snapped. "My mother wanted to hear from me weekly, they're talking about moving. But they are willing to stay, if I'm enjoying school and doing well in it."

He still chuckled. Pushing her back down into a wooden chair, he pulled out one for himself. He then sat across from her, looking into those dusky blue eyes that narrowed every time he came around. "I brought you food," he said, holding out to the tray of cookies. They were freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. "I thought maybe we could share some."

Pamela shrugged and without a second thought, brought the cookie up to her lips. She then looked up into his mysterious blue eyes. It was these eyes that set him aside from his twin brother, and anyone who became close to the twins, knew this. Fred was always liked to corner his prey, while George was a little more strategic about it.

She finally took a bite and started coughing. With a puff of smoke, she was changed into a bright yellow duck. She quacked and waddled around. As the laughter escaped Fred's mouth, a few other Gryffindor students began to laugh too.

Before he had a chance to tease Pamela further, Hermione Granger—bookworm extraordinary—came into the picture and put her hands on her hips. She glared at Fred, and he stopped all signs of being amused. When she stood like that, it reminded him of the way his mother would scold him and George.

Finally, he stood up and shrugged. "It's going to wear off any moment now, Granger," he said. "And it's not like she's harmed."

"She could have been seriously injured, Fred Weasley!" Hermione scolded. "I have the common decency to write your mother and tell her what you've been doing!"

There was another poof and Pamela was standing on top of the table. Looking around, she blushed and climbed down. Finally, she walked up to Fred and stood up as straight as she could. She was one of the shorter second years, but she had enough courage to stand up to any bully. From what he had heard from Ginny, Pamela wouldn't show a single tear in the face of anyone, but when she was by herself, would cry until Hermione or Lee came by.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, her shoulders quivering. "You are nothing more than practical jokes and hot air. You're a bunch of show. One day you will have a desk job at the Ministry while I be head of your Department. Remember that, Fred Weasley. Because I've heard that payback's a bitch."

"Pamela," Hermione stated, walking closer.

"And I vow one day, I will get you back for all the trouble you've caused me," Pamela confessed.

She then stormed away. If Fred weren't too stunned at her words he would have chased after the young girl. Then he would have seen the tears that were rolling down her face, the tears that he had caused time and time again by making fun of her and using her as a test subject. But he stood there, staring where she would once was. Nobody had ever said that to him.

"Fred?" George called out. "You okay, mate?"

Fred looked up. "Whatever, she doesn't know what she's talking about. We're opening our joke shop remember?"

"Right," George replied, returning to his book.

Fred watched the girl throughout the year, and Christmas drew closer. She was writing more and more—to her parents, he had to guess—and talked to Lee Jordan a little bit more. After being ignored by the small girl, Fred slowly lost interest and moved onto creating and experimenting more than pranking the young girl. George and him were almost always curled up in a corner talking and planning.

"Are you seriously going home for the holiday?" Lee asked, this peaked Fred's interest. If she was going home, then the Quidditch announcer could spend more time with them. "You don't want to stay with us for the Holiday?"

"Mate, let the little witch go. If she's so homesick," Fred finally scoffed. He had never really forgiven her for that comment about giving him payback one day. "We don't need her here anyway."

"Piss off," Pamela snapped. She turned back to Lee. "Mum and Dad have some stuff they want to talk about. I'm not one to argue. There's all the attacks going on here, I know it sounds childish, but I need my mother and father."

Fred looked up and a smirk crossed his face. "Does baby still need Mommy and Daddy?" he teased. George slapped his forehead, and tried to warn Fred to stop before he lost something. Paying no mind to his twin, Fred continued, "Do you still need your teddy bear and a light to sleep? How about a warm bottle of milk?"

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the common room and a few people stared up to look. When they saw that it was just Pamela and Fred going at it again, they returned to what they were doing.

"You stupid boy, you know nothing!" she yelled. She moved her hand back to slap him again, but dropped it to the side. Shaking her head, she got up and walked up to her dormitory.

She returned with her trunk in tow and she was rolling it down to the Entrance Hall. The train was leaving later that day, and people were anxious to leave as well. The portrait swung open and Pamela took one look back at the common room, her eyes meeting with Fred's.

"Don't leave on my account," he said, sitting back.

Now it was time for Pamela to smirk. She let out a little laugh before saying, "You know something Fred Weasley, I might actually miss you when I leave. Or maybe I won't, because you've caused me enough trouble as it is." She then turned and walked away.

Fred smirked. "They always come back."

Lee stood up and looked at his best friend. "Mate, you're foolish if you think Pamela's coming back."

"What do you mean?" George finally sighed and placed his quill down.

"Pamela has been pulled out. Her parents pulled her out last week. With Muggle-borns being attacked, they don't want to risk any of it," George answered. "I heard her telling Hermione this, if you could get Hermione to sit still for more than one minute. They're moving to the States."

"Good riddance," Fred answered, returning to his Charms book.

* * *

Yells and cheers of triumph echoed through the partially destroyed Hogwarts. There were many good souls that were lost, but there were still many good souls that were saved during that time. Fred sat on one of the many tables in the Great Hall. Many of the dead were laid across and families and friends were mourning over the loss of who had died from the war.

Remus Lupin sat on a lone stool, his head in his hands as the school was searched more times, looking for those who had survived and those were dead. Fred noticed that little Collin Creevy was being fussed over by Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape was being hassled by McGonagall. Draco Malfoy stood over Goyle and his eyes were bloodshot, from crying. It must have been hard to loose a best friend, but even in war there were casualties on both sides.

Fred leaned back and looked at the blacken ceiling. His feet moved back and forth and he thought back to when he almost lost George—who was over by Katie telling her that everything was going to be all right. Fred had no idea what he would have done. It was just plain luck that George had only lost his ear.

"Hey," a small voice stated. He looked down and saw Hermione standing in front of him. The last time he had seen her, she had her hair pulled up and out of her face, a light touch of make-up and was wearing a lilac dress. Now here she was, nearly a whole year later, looking like she hadn't taken a bath in months. Her hair was once again bushy—from not being brushed—and hanging down her back.

"Greetings, Granger," he said. He wasn't in any mood to actually talk to anyone. Hermione wasn't even the exception. He had grown to like her and tolerate her over the months. "Aren't you searching for survivors with the rest of the family?"

"No, Ron has just informed me that he isn't interested in me," she said, letting out a huge sniff. Rolling his eyes, he patted the seat next to him. She began to tell all that happened in the heat of the battle, over the course of that previous year, and how her feelings for Ron seemed to grow stronger.

"I don't know what to tell you, Hermes," he stated, again his eyes were back to looking over at George and Katie. The two of them were bickering back and forth. George was rather protective of this girl, and it was safe to say that he loved her. But it had to be a Weasley curse or something, to hurt the woman you loved once or twice.

"What do you mean? Can't you offer some advice?"

"My brother can be a prat sometimes," he said. "I have my own problems to worry about. Angelina has informed me that she wasn't taking me to the party."

"What party?" Hermione wiped away tears from her eyes.

"The celebration. The War is over, Granger! We can live without fear—where have you been for the last few years?" he teased, knocking on her head.

She smiled. And his heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was because he was looking for something to pass the time, or maybe it was because he was truly attracted to her. But he leaned forward and kissed her. She gasped and pulled away, her fingers rushing to her lips. She then looked back at the boy. He finally moved in closer, and captured her lips again.

She stood up, and her hands rushed to his hair. He pulled her hands away from his hair and put them firmly on his chest. Finally, he pulled away and looked up at her. "How about we attend this party for a little bit, and then sneak away somewhere more private?"

Hermione didn't answer. "I don't know why I'm doing something irrational like this, but I think we forego the party and we escape somewhere else," she said, kissing him again.

Fred pulled away and looked down at her. His body was telling him to go and fulfill Hermione's wishes, while the more sane part of his mind said to go to that party and make an appearance. He kissed her again before standing up. Grabbing her hand, they moved to an empty classroom.

As Fred shut the door, a thought crossed his mind, _who said the hero always got the girl? _

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**K15: Okay, so I'm going to be putting a little more time and effort into this fic. I liked the way that the first Weasley Twins turned out, and I'm happy to have it around. **

**Fred: Remember this is a rewrite. And a lot can happen. Plot ideas can be taken away and added to it. **

**Me: Yeah, exactly! I don't know how much I'll be updating this—probably a lot since summer is just right around the corner. But I might find something else to write. Eh—anyway. **

**Fred: So, tell them about the ending! **

**Me: Oh yeah. I had a few questions about people who were dead in one of the chapters of the Weasley Twins: the Lost Pages. So, I figured I'd answer that. Also, there was a background story about Fred and Hermione. So, I decided to put that in here as well. Also, CT—incase you're still keeping notes on that prequel you promised :P—I decided to skip out on the party and have to two do something irrational instead. And so, well, you know what happens after this. **

**Fred: Anyway, I hope you guys continue to read this. **

**Me: Yup! Don't forget to review! Later. K15**


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